They settled at the edge of the clearing, where the roots of the ancient tree rose like natural benches, curving to cradle them without need for words. The fox-man produced a small fire with a flick of his fingers, no spark, no tinder, just a breath of heat that coiled into flame. It burned low and steady, casting soft gold onto the moss and bark around them.
Lira sat cross-legged, Fluffy curled against her thigh. Across the fire, the fox-man lounged with easy grace, as though the forest had shaped itself to accommodate him. His robe shimmered with each subtle movement, the embroidery catching firelight like embers in the dark.
"What should I call you?" she asked quietly.
He looked up from the fan he was idly twirling between his fingers. "You've never named me?"
"You were always just… the fox," she said with a small shrug. "Now that you talk and have robes and opinions about beauty, it seems rude not to ask."
A laugh escaped him, warm, amused. "Fair. Names are old things. Powerful, if spoken right. But you may call me Renkai."
Lira repeated it under her breath. The name felt ancient, woven with wind and ash. It suited him.
"Renkai," she said aloud. "Thank you."
He gave a lazy bow of his head. "For what?"
"For not letting that beast tear me apart."
Renkai's smile faded, just slightly. "You were brave. Foolish, yes. But brave."
She smiled faintly, then looked up through the thinning mist, where the sky had begun to darken to a purple hue. The moon would rise soon.
"What is it about this flower?" she asked. "Why does everyone want it?"
Kaelen leaned back, gaze lifting toward the tree.
"It's not just any blossom," he said, voice quieter now. "It's a memory locked in living form. A mirror of the soul who awakens it. When it blooms red, it reflects truth—raw and unhidden. A gift. A curse. Depends on the bearer."
Lira's breath slowed. "And mine?"
"We'll see," he said. "Some truths are beautiful. Some... are not."
They sat in silence after that. The fire cracked gently. Night deepened.
Then, slowly, the forest stirred.
A low hum echoed through the clearing, deep and ancient, like the tree was breathing, or remembering. Lira looked up.
Above them, through the mist-thinned sky, the moon rose, full and enormous, and red as spilled wine.
The Blood Moon.
The buds above them trembled.
Kaelen stood. No longer casual—now alert, reverent. "It's time."
Lira rose too, breath catching in her throat as the tree seemed to glow from within. The white buds unfurled in slow motion, each petal peeling back with a sigh, revealing velvet centers deep crimson in color, as if soaked in wine and shadow.
One flower, near her reach, leaned gently toward her.
Kaelen nodded once. "Now."
With trembling fingers, Lira reached up and drew the small knife she kept strapped to her thigh. The tip kissed her fingertip, just enough to bring a well of blood to the surface.
She held it to the flower.
A single drop fell, splashing onto the red heart of the bloom.
The forest held its breath.
The flower glowed, not red, not white, but gold. Brilliant, searing. Like a memory set aflame.
Lira gasped. Visions unfurled behind her eyes, her childhood, the first time she saw the fox, her songs, the ache of longing that never had a name.
And something else.
A voice. Hers, but not. A thread from beyond the veil.
"You have always walked between worlds. Now... remember why."
The light flared once more and then settled.
The flower had changed. It now bore golden veins across red petals, like cracks in porcelain filled with light. Lira stumbled back, dizzy.
Kaelen caught her by the shoulders, steadying her.
"It chose you," he said, voice quiet, but eyes blazing. "And that changes everything."
Renkai watched Lira closely as she held the faded flower in her palm, its once-vibrant petals now dull and lifeless.
"It has given you all it could," he said softly, voice tinged with gentle finality. "That bloom is spent, its magic spent in your healing. It cannot be traded, nor can it serve you further."
Lira looked down at the flower, then up at him, understanding blooming like dawn in her chest. She had held onto it hoping it might still hold some power, but now she saw it was a token of what had been, not what was to come.
Renkai swished his fan once more, and a few unopened buds, the same deep red as the legend spoke of, drifted down like falling embers into her outstretched palm. They were soft and cool, vibrant with unspoken promise.
"If the Blood Moon rises again," he murmured, "you may use one of these to clear the shadows of your past, to unbind what haunts you. But such power demands great courage and a clear heart."
Lira cradled the buds carefully, feeling their quiet pulse against her skin, as if they held the rhythm of an unseen world.
"We rest now," Renkai said, folding his fan and settling down beneath the great ancient tree. "Tomorrow brings the next step, and you will need all your strength."
Lira nodded, settling beside him with Fluffy curling at her feet. The fog shifted softly around the tree's roots, the white buds above like silent watchers.
As dawn stretched its pale fingers through the thinning fog, soft beams of sunlight barely pierced the mist, casting the forest in a gentle, ethereal glow. Lira stirred, blinking away the last shadows of night. Beside her, Fluffy yawned softly, curling tighter at her feet.
They all rose slowly. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of damp earth and ancient wood. Lira reached into her pouch and pulled out a handful of dry fruits, hard, wrinkled, but nourishing enough to steady their morning hunger. She offered some to Renkai, who accepted silently with a faint nod.
Their meal was quiet, shared with the solemnity of those bound by a recent ordeal. Then, as they prepared to leave, Lira paused and turned to glance back at the great tree, its massive trunk still wrapped in pale bark and spiraling vines. The unopened white buds rested silently in the light mist, waiting.
Renkai's copper hair caught the sunbeam as he turned toward her, his golden eyes sharp and unreadable. With a delicate flick of his fan, he conjured one last bloom, a deep red flower, still tightly curled with promise and placed it gently in Lira's palm.
"This is for the man who desires it," he said quietly. "It will not grant him what he seeks, for he understands not the true worth of such a gift. Some humans collect only for possession, blind to meaning."
Lira closed her fingers around the flower, feeling its cool softness pulse faintly beneath her skin.
"Perhaps," Renkai continued, "it will be enough to trade for what you need."
She nodded slowly, the weight of the flower both a burden and a key.
With a final sweep of his fan, Renkai signaled the end of their vigil. "Come. We must go now."
Together, they stepped back into the forest's embrace, the morning light growing stronger with every step.
Renkai led the way through the dense fog with a graceful, almost effortless stride. His feet barely seemed to touch the soft earth as he moved, his robe flowing like liquid silk behind him. Every so often, he swiped his fan through the thick mist, the movement both elegant and commanding.
"Stay close to me," he called over his shoulder with a sly smile. "We don't want you getting lost in this fog."
Lira hurried to keep pace, her eyes darting nervously through the swirling haze. Curiosity finally got the better of her.
"How… how do you know where to go? This place feels endless."
Renkai glanced back, his amber eyes gleaming with charm. "Of course I know where we are. This foggy forest is my home."
Lira blinked, surprise breaking across her face. "Your home?"
He chuckled softly, turning fully to face her as they walked. "Yes. For centuries."
"Centuries?!" Her voice barely rose above a whisper, disbelief etched into every syllable.
Renkai's smile turned wistful, a flicker of something older and deeper passing through his gaze. "We creatures and beings from other realms live far longer than humans. But… I lost quite a bit of my power over time."
He paused, waving his fan lightly, a faint shimmer rippling in the air.
"With your healing touch, I've regained just enough… enough to take this form again."
He ran a hand through his copper hair, a playful grin forming. "Oh, how I missed my human-like features."
Lira watched him closely, her mind spinning.
"Being a fox for so long… it's dull. No freedom to roam the realms. Just a normal animal to most."
His tone darkened slightly, annoyance creeping in. "Those hunters…"
He flicked his fan sharply, and the air seemed to tense, as if the memory still stung.
"But now… I can walk among worlds once more."
Lira's heart quickened, a strange mix of awe and sympathy stirring inside her.
Renkai folded his fan with a snap and tucked it neatly under his sleeve. Without another word, he resumed his steady, graceful pace, weaving through the dense mist like a thread pulling them forward. The forest around them seemed to lean closer, ancient trees whispering secrets in the quiet air.
Lira and Fluffy followed closely, the soft crunch of leaves underfoot the only sound besides the distant call of unseen birds. The fog thickened now and then, swallowing the path ahead, but Renkai moved as if the way were etched into his very being.
"Stay close," Renkai reminded gently, swiping his fan again to part the fog like a curtain. "The forest is full of things that do not welcome visitors."
Lira's heart beat faster. "What kind of things?"
Renkai glanced sideways, a teasing smile playing on his lips. "Old magic. Forgotten spirits. Creatures that dislike being disturbed."
The words sent a shiver down her spine, but she found herself unable to look away from the calm certainty in his eyes. He walked as if the forest was a familiar friend, not a place filled with unseen dangers.
They passed twisted roots that looked like grasping hands and vines that curled as if alive. The air grew cooler, the sun's weak beams barely reaching the forest floor. Here and there, faint glimmers of strange, glowing fungi clung to the bark, casting eerie light.
Suddenly, Renkai stopped. He raised his fan and pointed ahead.
"There," he said softly.
Through the fog, a faint flicker of movement appeared, shadows shifting among the trees, watching.
Lira held her breath. Fluffy growled low and pressed closer to her leg.
"Stay behind me," Renkai whispered, his voice steady but alert.
The watchers did not approach but their presence was undeniable, a silent warning in the thickening mist.
Renkai swiped his fan once more, the force pushing the fog aside to reveal a narrow path barely visible beneath a curtain of hanging moss.
"This way," he said, stepping forward.
Lira took a deep breath and followed, heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. Whatever lay ahead, she knew this journey was far from over.